


Button Eyes

by Vorcha_Girl



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love, Plushies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Love, eve of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 04:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8564773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorcha_Girl/pseuds/Vorcha_Girl
Summary: Zaeed Massani has a problem: how do you give the woman of your dreams a small pink plushie varren without compromising your masculinity or her reputation as a badass?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Europolarist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Europolarist/gifts).



**A/N - I hope you like your story, I did my best to work with your prompt but I did change some things - so I hope this is okay! I had a lot of fun writing it, especially since I've always wanted to write a Zaeed x FemShep!**

 

* * *

 

The goddamn pink plushie varren with the adorable cute button eyes stared accusingly at Zaeed from across the room where it lay nestled against Jessie. It's bright colours looked ridiculous against his rifle’s gunmetal grey casing, and the cutesy soft toy seemed to watch him as he strode back and forth across the firebombed apartment, wearing a path into the floor. He scowled at it and crossed his arms, gritting his teeth as he tried to psych himself up to deliver the stupid thing to the woman he had found himself falling just a little more in love with every time he fought alongside her.

Shepard.

He had tried to give her the plushie a million times, maybe more. To find the perfect way to deliver it into her hands without compromising his masculinity or her reputation as a badass. It was bad enough that that she had come across him at the Arcade when he had been trying to win one for her from the stupid _rigged_ machine, but as soon as he’d spied them he knew he had to get one for her. Shepard _loved_ varren, and she'd bitterly regretted leaving Urz on Tuchanka. Hell, he had a black and withered heart and even he had seen the genuine regret in her eyes as she'd left the friendly varren snuffling around the Tuchanka spaceport and walked away.

That had been _the moment_ for him.

It hadn't been seeing her stripped down in the change room when she was sweaty after battle and looking like a goddess of war, nor had it been seeing her giving the Collectors hell on the battlefield; her biotics glowing fiercely and her shotgun in hand. No, it had been that simple human moment when he had seen pain, regret and loss etched in her features. In that moment he'd seen straight to her heart, to the little girl lost on the streets who played with homeless dogs and cats before she joined the Reds, and he had fallen for that human side of her.

So he had won the goddamn fluffy toy varren for her, using her own fucking credits no less, and now he was faced with probably the biggest debacle of his life; how did you give a _toy_ to a woman you wanted? A woman you goddamn _loved_? Casually? Playfully? Should he toss it at her like it was nothing? Casually leave it with a note? If he made too big a deal of it they would both be embarrassed and then he would be shit out of luck with her; Shepard was a tough as nails warrior, not some swooning woman.

The plushie had been a bad idea; it was too _cute_ , too _pink_ , too _soft_.

He sighed and glanced out the window at the tattered remains of London, his home city. The glowing reaper beam swirled and twisted in the distance, and clouds boiled in the sky. Bad idea or not, he didn’t have much time left to do something about the way he felt. Shepard had gathered her troops on Earth and tomorrow they would make their push for the beam. One final play for humanity.

“Fuck it,” Zaeed grunted as he snatched up the plushie and stuffed its soft pink body inside his jacket, “what have I got to lose?”

He left his room before he could think better of it, his boots scraping over the uneven floor of the apartment building that Anderson had allocated to the Normandy crew, as well as to his own rag tag mercenary team. They were supposed to be trying to get some shut eye while they waited for the signal to move out, but the sense that something was building in the air was electric and Zaeed doubted many were sleeping. A shit storm of epic proportions was coming fast and they didn’t have much time to batten down the hatches or ready themselves to stand and fight.

Shepard’s room wasn’t far down the hall from his, he knew which was hers because he had walked her there earlier this evening after Anderson's briefing, but as he stopped outside of it he hesitated. Maybe she was sleeping, Lord knows he felt bone-weary himself. But sleep had eluded him, and sleep was probably eluding her too. They were two of a kind, they were. Two warriors who had seen it all and then some. It was one of the things he liked about Shepard; she was just as tough as he was.

Zaeed gathered his courage and, again, before he could think better of it, he knocked on her door and let his hand fall to his side. _Shit_ , he thought as he swallowed the lump in his throat, _too late now to fucking back out. Not without letting her catch a glimpse of me running down the hallway like a fucking pyjack._

There was the sound of movement inside, a scuffling at the door, and then it opened a crack. Shepard peered through the gap, chuckled as she recognised him, and opened the door the rest of the way. As he had suspected she looked wide awake; dressed in her fatigues and a black N7 shirt, with her brown hair coiled up in a bun on top of her head. Her face was pale and the dusting of freckles across her cheeks stood out in stark contrast as she focused on him, her blue eyes warmer than usual as she showed him in and closed the door.

“Zaeed, I didn’t expect to see you this late at night.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the rickety desk she’d obviously been working at, a small smile playing around her mouth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Uh,” Zaeed floundered, suddenly unsure of what to do or how to put his feelings into words. He scratched at the back of his neck, his eyes zipping towards Shepard and darting away as he tried desperately to think of the words he wanted. “I uh, wanted to stop by and see you, since Tomorrow is D-Day and all.” _Shit, this was harder than he had expected._ “And I wanted to give you … to give you … . “

He fished around in his jacket and brought out the plushie varren. When he looked up and met her eyes, the air between them seemed to thicken, almost as though the attraction he felt for her had manifested itself physically. And for a moment, just a moment he thought he saw an answering flicker of desire on her face.

But it was his imagination; _it had to be_.

“A varren?” Shepard’s eyes lit up and she crossed the room in two strides, snatching it off his offered palm and smiling broadly. “Is this from the Arcade?” She pinned him with her gaze and when he nodded reluctantly her smile brightened. “You won it for me?”

“Well,” he shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I remembered how much you liked that flea bitten mongrel back on Tuchanka, and I wanted to give you something to remember me by. You know,” Zaeed shrugged again and looked away, “in case the worst happens tomorrow.”

She laughed softly. “Just admit you won it for me, I’ll be pleased.”

_Will you?_

“I won it for you,” Zaeed admitted gruffly, speaking as though the words were being tortured out of him, though the impish smile that danced across her limps made it worth the embarrassment of admitting he’d wasted all those credits on a stupid toy for her.

_Say the words! Tell her you love her!_ His brain shrieked at him, but his tongue remained knotted and try as he may, he couldn’t seem to make himself speak. It was like being frozen up in the middle of battle – _he who hesitates is lost -_  and he had well and truly hesitated.

“Thank you,” Shepard ran battle-hardened fingers over the plushie. “I used to have a toy like this when I was a kid, and I love varren, so this is perfect.” She suddenly stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders, her palms warm even through the fabric of his shirt. Then, before he could guess what she intended, she kissed him on the cheek.

For a moment, Zaeed was stunned, and he lifted a hand to his face, touching the spot where her lips had been, before he gained control of himself and he dropped his hand back down; ever the cool and serious merc. Shepard’s eyes lingered on his, then they dipped down to his lips and slowly, so slowly that she gave him every opportunity to pull away, she pressed her lips to his in a slow, burning kiss.

At first it was almost chaste, the sensation of her lips pressing to his, then her tongue stroked against his lower lip and Zaeed opened his mouth, allowing her to deepen the kiss. He raised his hands and slid them around her waist, pulling her closer as her tongue slid against his, hot and sweet and tasting of peppermint. He groaned and clutched her tighter, his body clenching with the feelings and desire he’d held in check for so long.

“Shepard.” He whispered her name as she pulled away, her hands staying curled on his shoulders as she gazed up into his eyes.

“Zaeed?”

The look on her face was too much, and he broke eye contact and pulled her against him, the ridiculous plushie varren crushed between them. “Why did we wait so long?”

Shepard shrugged and she rested her head against his shoulder. “Sometimes the right time is the worst time.” She kissed the side of his neck, her lips warm and persuasive. “Stay with me. And if we make it through the war we can make things right and see where this goes?”

Zaeed’s hands tightened on her waist and he nodded. “Sounds goddamn perfect to me.”

_Maybe_ , he thought as Shepard’s lips found his again, _that stupid bloody varren plushie hadn’t been such a stupid idea after all._

_-_

**A/N - Heh, Zaeed and his secret smooshie heart! ;) I hope you like your fic! :D**


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